


Somebody Had To

by justanothersong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Cliche, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffiest Fluff Ever to Fluff, M/M, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-01
Updated: 2013-10-01
Packaged: 2017-12-28 03:45:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/987283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothersong/pseuds/justanothersong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“My sister?!” Castiel spat back in response. “You fucking kissed my fucking sister?! What the hell, Dean?!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody Had To

**Author's Note:**

> Marked 'underage' because Dean and Castiel are around 15-16 here.

Castiel Morten had a mean right hook. That much, Dean remembered, after years spent sparring in his backyard as children, pretending the Winchester’s trampoline was a boxing ring. It was just that it was so unexpected, the punch coming out of nowhere, without so much as a word of warning. Castiel’s lips had set in a hard firm line, and Dean barely had time to notice the cold fury blazing in the other boy’s blue eyes before he found himself flat on his back on Castiel’s bedroom carpet, groaning as he reached to check his lips for blood.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cas!” he groaned.

“My sister?!” Castiel spat back in response. “You fucking kissed my fucking sister?! What the hell, Dean?!”

Dean sat up, bracing one hand on the ground while the other continued to inspect his face for damage. He wasn’t terribly vain for a teenage boy, but he had his pride; class pictures were in a few days and if Cas had messed him up for it, Dean was damn sure going to return the favor.

“Calm your ass down, Cas, it’s not like… wait… shit, Cas, did you just say ‘fuck’?”

 

Dean stared at his friend, green eyes gone wide in wonder and surprise. Castiel had always been peculiar, so long as Dean had known him; as children on the playground, he was quiet and withdrawn where other children laughed and ran, until Dean could draw him out to play. He spoke formally and sometimes just watched silently, even as a teenager now, head tilting to the side, eyes squinting at something he seemed to glimpse that no one else could. It hadn’t helped that his father was an undertaker; in a small town, the knowledge that your father handled the dead didn’t do well for a kid’s reputation.

It got even worse when Cas’ mother died, cancer that she had been fighting even before the boy was born finally taking her. He became more withdrawn, more quiet and formal in his interactions with everyone but Dean and his family. Even when they had reached those awkward days of puberty, and Castiel’s voice had moved between squeaky and strained to the low-pitched growl it had become, he still held that air of elegance and formality in his speech. He barely used slang, rarely used nicknames, and, seemingly most important of all, Castiel James Morten did not curse.

To hear him freely throwing the infamous ‘f-word’ around startled Dean even more than the punch he had just taken.

Castiel didn’t even seem to notice the question, too caught up in his own angry rant to hear his friend’s words.

“My sister, seriously? Christ, Dean, Tessa is in college, she’s way too old for you and, besides, she’s MY SISTER! That’d be like… like me dating Charlie or something! It’s creepy and weird and seriously, what the fuck, Dean?!”

Dean only stared, the words tumbling from Castiel’s mouth keeping him completely flabbergasted. One thing the other boy said was true enough; Castiel dating Charlie Bradbury, a redheaded freshman who had latched onto the boys when they were all still in middle school and become a little sister of sorts, would have been all levels of creepy. Even apart from the fact that Charlie had never been into guys, anyway.

But Dean and Tessa? That wasn’t all that creepy. Hell, it should have been expected. It wasn’t like it had been any secret that Dean had been crushing on his best friend’s big sister for years. Tessa Morten had always been pretty, with hair as dark as her brother’s that fell to frame her face in a flattering bob. Slim and lithe, and even a little bit gothy, her dark eyeliner and brown leather jacket painted a bad girl image that surfaced in the way she never hesitated to call out Dean on his shit and never backed down from a fight when some idiot in town took a crack at her father or kid brother. She even reminded Dean a little bit of one of his favorite characters, Death, from the _Sandman_ comics he hoarded and read over and over again. 

Dean had been flirting with her for years, and she had occasionally deigned to flirt back. So what if she was six years older, finishing out a degree part time while working at her father’s funeral home? So what if she was his best friend’s sister? If anything, that made it all the better; he and Cas were practically family already, so why not make it official?

Of course, that was getting ahead of things, Dean reminded himself. After all, it had only been a kiss. And really not all that great of a kiss at that.

“Hey, man, I wasn’t alone in this,” Dean interjected, cutting off Castiel’s ranting for a moment. The other boy only glared at Dean, who had by then gotten to his feet. “I didn’t just kiss Tessa, okay? Tessa kissed me. She kissed me first and I kissed back, man. It’s not that big of a deal.” He paused, waiting to see how his friend would respond, running his fingers back through his dark blonde hair in a nervous gesture.

“I’ll deal with my sister later,” Castiel replied, face still stony with anger.

Dean barked out a forced nervous laugh. “Cas, c’mon man,” he said, voice taking on a pleading tone. “It’s really not that big of a deal, right?”

“If it wasn’t that big of a deal, why did you tell me about it like this?” Castiel responded, voice gone low and deadly as he took a step towards his friend. “Why did you apologize before you even said what you did? Why did make me promise not to get angry before you told me?”

“Kinda going back on that promise, man,” Dean pointed out with a small smile, hoping to edge Cas back into a good-natured disagreement instead of the blind fury that had the other boy practically shaking.

 

He hadn’t expected all of this, to be honest. He thought Cas might be a little upset. More grossed out by the concept than anything, truly. And it wasn’t as though Dean had instigated it; yes, he had flirted, and, yes, he had admittedly had a crush, but it was Tessa that had smiled softly at him in the kitchen the day before, when he’d run down during a chemistry cramming session to grab a couple of sodas for himself and Cas. 

It was Tessa who had reached out with her pale hands and black-painted nails, turning his chin to face her rather unexpectedly after another bout of harmless flirtation. It was Tessa who had smirked, shaken her head, and practically purred out, “You talk a big game, Winchester, but let’s see if you really know how to play it.”

Dean’s heart had begun pounding in his chest, pulse thundering in his ears, and, though he’d never admit it, not even under torture, his hands had even shook the slightest bit. But it was of no matter; Tessa had taken control, smiling, running her fingers through his hair, before just gently pressing her lips to his. And Dean’s thoughts had just gone to … huh.

Maybe it was because he had over-fantasized. Maybe he had expected too much. When he thought about it – and he did think about it, quite a lot over the years – it had gone differently. Her lips would be softer, and without the strange waxy taste of her just slightly too-dark lipstick. This kiss would have been more tender, without the rough (rather than teasing) nipping at his lips or the weirdly invasive (rather than exciting) pressure of her tongue against his. He’d have pulled her into his arms, rather than letting his hands fall numbly at his sides. And when they’d pulled away, she’d have stared at him with wonder filling her too-blue eyes and a small smile on her face, rather than a smirk awash with smeared lipstick and a challenging eyebrow arched over shockingly brown eyes – why on earth had Dean thought they’d be blue?

Dean had panicked after that, shouting up the stairs to Cas that he’d had to go and bolting out the back door, ignoring the somewhat painful sound of Tessa’s chuckles as he went. It had mostly been a bust, the kiss not at all what he might have expected and the aftermath much more uncomfortable and strange than he had imagined. Fessing up to Cas seemed even more daunting than kissing Tessa ever could have, and the experience was proving his worries correct.

“I can’t fucking believe you!” Cas spat out, his rant continuing even while Dean had drifted inward for a moment or two. “Like it’s not bad enough you have to go whoring around with whatever girl at school will even give you the time of day, but my god damn sister? You’re un-fucking-believable, Dean, I swear to god!”

“Look, it’s not…” Dean started, then stopped again as he got to his feet, and frowned. “Dude, did you just call me a whore?”

Cas crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “Call it like I see it, man,” he responded.

 

Dean felt a tiny bit of his worry and awkwardness ebb away; here he was, fessing up to his best friend about something he didn’t even initiate, didn’t really like, and honestly wasn’t planning on repeating, and he was getting called names for his trouble. By a boy who had, in all honesty and until that moment, a veritable virgin tongue.

It was a little much.

“Not cool, man!” Dean spat out, glaring in return. “Y’know, I’m trying to do the right thing here, and you’re being a total dick about it.”

“No, I think the right thing would have been not sticking your tongue down my sister’s throat,” Cas deadpanned in reply.

Dean gave an exasperated groan and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, immediately wincing in pain from the all too quickly forgotten punch his best friend had thrown in his direction not long before.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cas, it wasn’t like that!” he said. “I mean… well yeah, maybe it was, but it was just a couple of seconds and it… it wasn’t any good and it’s not like it’s going to happen again, so what is the big fucking deal?”

Cas snorted. “Like I can trust you on that. Like I said: you whore around with whoever will have you, how the hell can you say you won’t be after my sister again, Dean?”

“Again with the whore thing!” Dean spat back. “The fuck, Cas! Just cos you don’t try and get any doesn’t mean the rest of us should be fucking celibate. If I’m a whore than you’re… you’re a fucking nun, for fuck’s sake!”

Bright roses of embarrassment bloomed in Cas’ cheeks and he crossed his arms over his chest in a self-conscious manner, all at once making Dean feel guilty for the words he had shouted in anger. Cas had long been teased over his lack of romantic companionship (along with just about everything else), and hearing the same taunts coming from Dean had to cut deep.

“I didn’t mean that,” Dean said suddenly, anger gone from his voice. “I didn’t mean it like that, Cas, I just… I’m sorry.”

Cas shook his tousled dark head. “Whatever, Dean,” he said, voice a little calmer but clearly hurt. “Maybe you should just go home, before you end up stuck in some closet somewhere, feeling up Tessa.”

Dean groaned. Back to this again. “God damn it, Cas, I told you that’s not going to happen!”

Laughing bitterly, Cas shook his head. “Yeah?” he countered. “Your track record says otherwise. Who’s to say you don’t change your mind in an hour? Run off with her, and then I don’t even have a best friend anymore, just Tessa’s jailbait boyfriend.”

“That’s not going to happen!” Dean protested hotly.

“How can you be so sure?” Cas replied, back to glaring again. He had let a little more slip than he’d mean to; it wasn’t about propriety or family honor at all. At the end of the day, Cas was afraid of what would happen when Dean found the girl he was going to stick with, even worse if it were Tessa, leaving Cas in the dust. He didn’t have any other friends; he didn’t have anyone else at all.

The words flew out of Dean’s mouth before he had a chance to stop them. “Because I don’t want Tessa, you idiot, I want you!”

It was as though the world had suddenly lurched to a stop, leaving each boy suddenly tottering on their feet, eyes wide and staring at the other. The words had slipped out so suddenly, so carelessly, that Dean hadn’t had even a moment to think on them before they were made real and concrete and given voice. It wasn’t the first time a thought had sprouted in his heart and jumped unceremoniously from his lips, without making a pit stop to be mulled over in his brain first, but it was definitely the most earth-shattering he had experienced. He gave a weak smile and attempted to speak, but only managed a short stuttered grunt.

Cas was staring back in apparent shock, eyes wide and blue and utterly surprised, pale lips parted just slightly in awe. His chest was heaving as though he’d just run a mile without stopping, and he glanced around wildly, as though waiting for someone to pop out of a corner to point and laugh, in on some grand cosmic joke that Cas had been left out of. His heart thudding in his chest, the one resounding thought pounding through his head was the single word _yes_ , as his legs threatened to crumple beneath him and he finally understood that this was the thought he had never been able to voice, the one thing he’d wanted for so long but never quite realized. 

Dean was just as thrown. So much about his life had suddenly made perfect sense: why it never lasted with any of the girls he’d run after – whored after, maybe, as Cas had put it – and why, even though Tessa had been his go-to fantasy girl for years, the realization of his daydream had been wholly unsatisfying. Why he had felt so guilty, felt as though he needed to confess and make it up to Cas. Why he often woke up with sticky shorts and images of blue eyes haunting his mind. He was suddenly trembling all over.

He took a deep breath, then paused to lick his lips. “Cas, I— ”, Dean began, never getting a chance to finish his thought.

The other boy was on him in an instant, the two tumbling backwards and landing on Cas’ bedroom floor with a resounding thump. Neither had ever kissed a boy but it didn’t stop them, the old familiarity of the others’ body from wrestling matches, headlocks, and playful swimming pool dunking making something entirely new still feel like coming home. For all of his supposed inexperience, Cas still nipped and sucked at Dean’s lower lip like a pro, earning deep-seated groans of “Cas” and “fuck”, the only words Dean’s mind allowed him to form, alongside the pounding thought of _more more more_. 

When Cas bit down on the soft space between his neck and shoulder, Dean graduated to a half-moaned “GodfuckCasyes!”. A shift of the other boy’s hips and Dean could feel his own arousal suddenly met with another, sending a wave of pleasure rushing through him so fast that he nearly lost is, hands squeezing at Cas’ waist before drifting up to pull the other boy’s lips to his own from where they had drifted to suck an impressive bruise into his clavicle.

Panting between kisses, Dean muttered, “Am I still a whore?”

Cas rolled his hips and they both shuddered. “I don’t care what you are,” he replied. “S’long as you’re mine.”

 

Tessa was smiling to herself as she came upon her father, dressed in his usual black suit and seated at the dining room table, paging through a newspaper and picking at a greasy sack of deep fried pickle chips he had picked up on his way home that evening.

“Hey Pops,” the girl called cheerfully.

“Tessa,” he father berated in his even tone, lowering his newspaper to peer at his daughter. “Did you really kiss that Winchester boy?” His son’s argument with his friend had been rather loud, and even in the sturdy old house, sound traveled well through the floors and walls.

Tessa grinned. “Well somebody had to,” she replied. “Figured if Cas wasn’t going to, might as well be me.”

Her father rolled his eyes and looked to respond, but paused as a series of energetic and rhythmic thumps echoed from the ceiling. Tessa smirked, all but certain that her brother was dry-humping his new boyfriend on his bedroom floor.

“Think of it this way,” she told her father as he frowned towards the ceiling. “At least no one can get knocked up.”

Her father sighed and raised his newspaper once again. “I suppose you’re right,” he agreed. “Go order us a pizza for dinner. Make it two. I’m sure Dean will be staying for dinner.”

**Author's Note:**

> The last named 'Morten' was chosen based primarily on 'morte' - death.  
> From a Tumblr prompt I sadly lost track of long ago.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://literatec.tumblr.com), if you wish.
> 
> Please do not add this, or any of my posted works, to Goodreads. Thank you.


End file.
